Alter
by Tora-Star
Summary: America is running and falling into all kinds of changes. Not just around him, but on him as well. With the death of his people and the newcomers settling in his land, his body starts representing the new outlook of his land. Am/Eng possibly Am/Fra
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I've noticed there isn't a ton of LONG American/England fanfiction so I decided upon myself to try to add some. I'm sadly such a fangirl for this pairing that I think I've just about read everything there can be (rated M) of this couple on

I really hope you enjoy my attempt at writing and am open to any suggestions and/or feedback. And the more feedback I get the more easy it'll be writing =) I have to admit, I dislike writing but I'm growing fond of reading so I should acquire a taste for the other. I'm more of an artist then writer, just a warning. I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia. Anyway enough of my babbling. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

Gasping and panting was heard passing through the dark wheat fields on a night when the moon took it's monthly absence. The little child had no idea where to go other than forward and away from the creatures he shared so deeply a resemblance.

The only humans that had resided in his land were of dark skin and equally dark eyes and hair. That being the case, he was also dark skinned with raven hair and eyes. But even with their stoic faces, the boy saw the kindness and caring underneath, and was raised as one of their own. Until now.

There have been new breed of people on his soil recently. People with skin as pale as the sand on his beaches and hair in shades of reds, oranges, yellows and all kinds of browns. The boy first saw them arrive in both large and small oddly shaped canoes, with smiling faces. Curiosity taking over, the small boy was the first to greet them, stepping out of the safety of the bushes that grew just before the sand on the beaches.

The newcomers looked at him with wide eyes and stares. It was unnerving, but after the boy mimicked the stranger's faded grins, they seemed to loosen up to him, growing from comfortable to excited. Some stood back while others kneeled down to meet his level and ruffle his hair in what could only be taken as friendly gesture. Soon, the people of the boy's land emerged from the concealment of the bushes and greeted the new company. He could see change and expandability happening, but was far too innocent of the many roads change can take.

Change had led the boy to the road he is running down now. Away from the burning village, all courtesy of the new guests.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note; Sorry my stuff's really short .; I honestly can't help it sometimes.

Chapter 2

He found himself passed out on the ground in the high vegetated field in which he was running in hours before. The over-bearing sunlight stabbed at the other side of his eyelids, forcing them to open and meet the sun and sky. Groggily he went to rub his eyes to the adjustment and notices that he looks down at his hands. They seemed slightly paler, but he figures it's because of the mixture of sunlight and how ill he feels when realizing he should go look at the damage to his once home.

Slowly he walks back to the place where he was so fond of in despair for he had a vague image of how it was now. Shuffling his feet on the familiar path he found with his head hanging low.

When he finally reached his destination it truly was what he imagined it to be. Nothing but burned and torn cloth, abandoned bowls and tools that took weeks to make and carve. The plants if not dead were on the journey to death and the only things that did seem alive were the memories of last night's tragedy flooding his mind.

The white men left corpses on the ground of his people. The unknown nation gritted his teeth and tried holding back his tears as he got to work for preparing a proper burial for his family members.

When he was sealing a prayer he heard voices approaching but stayed where he was. He didn't understand their language but the voices were much higher and faster then the way his people spoke. He


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Hetalia =(

The men talked amongst themselves for a few long minutes before one crouched down next to the unknown little nation and tried to talk to him. He didn't understand an continued looking at him with a blank if not confused face. His tired and angry gaze showed is lack in bothering with them. 'Haven't they done enough?' he thought. Soon the man sighed and sat down next to him, making himself comfortable and dragged his finger through the sand, drawing pictures to help break the communication barrier.

The first drawing was of them as stick people. Not too foreign to their own cave drawings. The second drawing was of a slightly larger stick figure with more detail, like the Chief would have. He circled the first drawing and drew an arrow to the tribe chief, and looked at him for an answer.

He knew then they were asking him to meet their leader. And as much as it frightened the little one to think of being surrounded by the invading guests, there need to be a discussion over their unruly actions on his home land.

The journey was surprisingly short to their settlement. It was closer to the beach to look over their huge canoe-but-not-canoe. He admired the items and clothes that the mass of them carried before he was lead into a big tipi.

Inside there was a mass amount of color and objects that shined when exposed to the incoming light from outside. But the colors and objects were slightly masked as well by a strange smelling smoke that he's never smelled before. It started making him cough and wheeze a little and he looked around for the source since he didn't see a fire or fire pit for that matter.

There near the back, sat a man who was blowing out the smoke through his lips. His skin was tan, but not as tanned like the little one's people. His hair was oak brown and eyes a deep Everest green. He smiled and reached a hand out to him. His smile looked kind but looks can be deceiving.

He slowly approached the smoker (ha L4D sorry) and sat in front of him, glaring as he did so. The Chief returned the glare with a small laugh and smile.

"*Why are you attacking my people?*" He asked venomously in his own language, not knowing the others.

Sighing, the stranger pointed to himself and said;

"Spain."

"Pain?" He tried repeating. The other laughed again, shaking his head from side to side, pointing to himself again.

"Spain. Antonio, Spain."

". . . Spain." He then shook his head feverishly up and down in what looked like glee. Then he pointed at the little native.

"Caul es su nombre?" He looked back at Spain and knew what he was asking, but wasn't sure how to answer. He has been all over and is known by many names in different tribes. While he was quietly thinking on how to answer the question, he still didn't break his gaze with Spain, making the man somewhat uneasy. Though he was a little child, Spain felt like those dark, somewhat black eyes were digging into right into his core.

It took a while, but after deciphering what to be called by these now intruders, he chose what to be called by them. Though the name was not from where he is now, it's meaning gives him a lot to fulfill.

"Qaletaqa" He pointed to himself confidently.

Sorry about my bad Spanish in this. I don't know Spanish so I used a translator and I don't really know too much about the native tribes in Florida (even though I should if I paid better attention in elementary school when I was in Florida) but now I live in Arizona and looked up names and thought Qaletaqa was fitting. The meaning of that name is Hopi for "Guardian of the People". America hasn't gotten his name quite yet. I think that'll be next chapter or so. Tell me what you think? =D


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